


(i thought) i knew you

by dduucckk



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Hopeful Ending, I went wild with italics, M/M, its fine its fine, no one like. self harms. but its still worth mentioning here I think, oh boy I really do keep writing angst huh, some super duper vague references to self harm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-13
Updated: 2020-11-13
Packaged: 2021-03-09 19:26:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,432
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27541537
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dduucckk/pseuds/dduucckk
Summary: Sometimes Sirius thinks that he might be okay. That maybe he’ll make it through this. He’s broken up with people before, hasn’t he? He’s been heartbroken before, and he’s always made it through. He’s survived so many things in his life that it seems silly that this would be the thing to break him.
Relationships: Sirius Black/Remus Lupin
Comments: 14
Kudos: 58





	(i thought) i knew you

**Author's Note:**

> both the title and the fic are vaguely inspired by cardigan by Taylor swift. also shoutout to my beta reader for not letting me make stupid stylistic choices even tho they looked cool

He sees him everywhere. Or rather, he _thinks_ he sees him everywhere. In the tall, skinny man ahead of him in line at the grocery store, in the golden brown curls just visible over the top of the shelves in the bookstore. In the kind stranger who apologizes for something that wasn’t his fault, and in the soft smile of the man on the bus who offers up his seat to the old lady that just got on. Sirius can’t look at a warm jumper without remembering _him_ , and it hurts so much that sometimes he doesn’t know how he can keep living like this. Sometimes, in the dead of night, when he can’t sleep because the bed is too empty and too cold, he wonders if it’s even worth it to keep going.

James and Lily still talk to _him_. They haven’t told Sirius that they do, but they must. They must because _he_ never really had a lot of friends outside of their little group, and Sirius knows James and Lily well enough to know that they wouldn’t let _him_ go without a fight. They don’t think that Sirius should have let _him_ go so easily either. He doesn’t tell them that he didn’t _let him go_. _He_ left. Sirius did fight to keep _him_ , of course he did, but Sirius wasn’t good enough, didn’t fight hard enough, and so _he_ left. And now Sirius is alone, and exhausted, and he doesn’t know what to do with himself now that he’s lost the most important person in his life.

Everyone keeps asking him _why_ and _how_ and _what happened_ , and Sirius doesn’t know how to explain that he _doesn’t know_ , he doesn’t, all he knows is that one day _he_ started to distance himself from Sirius, as if overnight _he’d_ decided that Sirius was too fucked up, too much work. And then one day, _he_ left.

~~~

_[“Morning, love!”_

_A soft groan as he woke, then: “Morning, Sirius.”_

_“Pancakes for breakfast?”_

_Around a smile: “That sounds delightful.”]_

~~~

Sometimes Sirius thinks that he might be okay. That maybe he’ll make it through this. He’s broken up with people before, hasn’t he? He’s been heartbroken before, and he’s always made it through. He’s survived so many things in his life that it seems silly that this would be the thing to break him.

But then he finds a box under his bed, and opens it up, and _oh god why did he do that?_

It’s filled with pictures. There must be hundreds of them, all polaroids taken with that camera that _he_ got for his seventeenth birthday. Four year’s worth of pictures, of James, and Lily, and Peter, and Sirius, Sirius, Sirius. He remembers the first time he saw them, the first time he saw how he looked through _his_ eyes. That had been the first time they kissed.

Sirius doesn’t want the box, doesn’t want the memories, but he can’t bring himself to throw it away. He shoves it back under the bed. It’s a week before he sleeps soundly again, the knowledge of the box invading every corner of his mind.

~~~

_[“Pads, are you okay?”_

_A crinkle of paper, a sniff, a rapid swipe of the hand across the face to remove tears. “I’m fine.” Silence, then: “I’m not fine.”_

_“What happened?”_

_“Letter from my parents.”_

_The sounds of paper being snatched, crumpled, and tossed. The crackling of the fire. “Fuck them. You’re far too good for them anyway.”_

_Quietly: “Thank you, Moony.”_

_“You don’t need to thank me, Pads.”]_

~~~

Sirius’s phone is a dangerous thing. Dangerous in that he still hasn’t deleted _his_ number, or blocked _his_ social media. Dangerous in that at any point he can still try to contact _him_ , and sometimes Sirius doesn’t have the strength to stop himself. Sometimes, he even gets an answer.

**why**

_why what_

**why the fuck would you do this to me**

**this is fucking hell moony and i didnt do a thing to you**

Sometimes he thinks he comes on too strong. Maybe he should be less angry, but he can’t help it. The best thing he’s ever had, and he didn’t even fuck it up, but it’s _gone_.

_you deserve better than me pads_

Sirius’s phone screen needs to be fixed after, but the noise it made when it hit the wall is worth it.

~~~

_[“You’re happy with me, right Sirius?”_

_“Of course I am. How could I not be happy with the most wonderful boy in the universe?”_

_“You must be thinking of someone else.”_

_The rustle of bedsheets. Two pairs of eyes meet in the dark. “Who else would I be thinking of?”_

_A shrug. “I dunno. Ignore me.”_

_“I will not. You, Remus John Lupin, are the most wonderful boy in the universe, and I will shout it from the rooftops if that’s what will make you believe it.”_

_A soft laugh. “I don’t think you need to do that, Pads.”_

_“And I don’t think you understand just how much you mean to me, Moony.”_

_A smile, but no reply._

_“I’ll make sure you know it.”_

_“Okay, Pads.”]_

~~~

He never did get an explanation. Just an I think we should break up. Just an _I’m leaving_. Just an _It’s better this way_. Sirius doesn’t think it’s better this way. It’s been a month and he’s still lost, and hurting, and he doesn’t know what will fix it. So he goes to _his_ house. He wants to talk to _him_ , face to face. _He’s_ never been good at lying. _His_ face always gives him away.

Finally, Sirius gets to ask his questions. Gets to ask _why_ and _how_ and _what happened_. The answer?

“It was better for both of us.”

Sirius wants to scream. He wants to shout and he wants to throw things and he wants to hurt things, and if he can’t hurt things then he’ll hurt himself, because anything must be better than what he’s feeling now.

“How was it better for both of us? It wasn’t better for me.”

“You would have got sick of me eventually.”

“I could never get sick of you.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I do!”

 _He_ doesn’t say anything to that. Just looks at Sirius. Downstairs, Sirius can hear _his_ mother puttering around the kitchen, the banging of pots and pans.

“Why would I get sick of you, Moony? Haven’t I told you you’re the best thing in my life?”

“Maybe for now.”

“How can you think that that would ever change?”

“People change, Sirius.”

“Did you?”

Sirius watches his face closely. He knows his tells, knows when he’s lying.

“Yes.”

He’s lying.

“You’re lying.”

“I’m not.”

“Yes you are. Why would you lie?”

“Because this is better!”

“How is it better if we’re both miserable?”

“It was going to happen one day. Us breaking up.”

“What, are you a prophet now or some shit? Where the fuck did you get that idea from?”

The more agitated Sirius gets, the more he swears. Remus has always done the opposite.

“No, Sirius, but I know you. I know what you’re like. You’re going to get bored and leave me. This was better.”

“You _know what I’m like_? What the fuck do you mean by that? I’ve never been bored of you.”

“Pads. You’re––you’re _you_. You’re loud, and charming, and _fucking beautiful_ , and people adore you and––and you’re going to find someone better than me someday, so I saved myself the pain and cut it off now.”

“Saved yourself the pain? You’re trying to tell me, _to my face_ that you don’t feel anything? That you don’t fucking _miss me_ , or miss what we had?”

Remus swallows.

“Yes.”

“Fuck you.”

Sirius wants to storm out, and he almost does, but then. Then he sees that Remus is barely holding back tears, and that breaks him in an entirely different way than he already is. He reaches out, tentatively, and Remus falls forward into his arms.

“It’s okay. It’s okay, my love, I’ve got you.”

Remus’s back shakes with his sobs, and he’s holding on to Sirius for dear life. Sirius rubs his back, strokes his hair, whispers sweet, gentle words into his ear.

“It’s all going to be okay,” he says, and Remus nods, as if he believes him, as if maybe it will be.

~~~

_[“Sirius?”_

_“Yeah, Moony?”_

_“You’ll never leave me, will you?”_

_A laugh. “Of course not. You’re the person I love the most in the world.”_

_“And that’ll never change?”_

_“Never”_

_A kiss, then: “I––I love you too, Padfoot. More than you could ever know.”]_

**Author's Note:**

> come say hi on [tumblr!](https://dduucckk.tumblr.com)


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